


Dragons Brought Me to You

by SlowTortoise



Series: Drarropoly 2020 [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cover Art, Dragon Tamer Harry, Dragons, Drarropoly: A Drarry Game/Fest, Falling In Love, Healer Draco Malfoy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27745921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlowTortoise/pseuds/SlowTortoise
Summary: Years after their last meeting, Draco and Harry meet again at the Romanian Dragon Preserve where more than dragon sparks fly.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Drarropoly 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2029642
Comments: 14
Kudos: 54
Collections: Drarropoly '20: Founders Edition





	Dragons Brought Me to You

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for Drarropoly 2020 and my first for the HP fandom! I hope you all enjoy it :) 
> 
> I landed on the Romanian Dragon Preserve and my prompt was "There is one item that a Dragon Tamer can't live without" and I chose Healer!Draco from a list of fanon themes. 
> 
> Massive thank you to the amazing [crazybutgood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazybutgood/profile) for betaing this fic, it wouldn't be complete without them.
> 
> [Game of Drarry](https://gameofdrarry.tumblr.com/)

Harry stares down at the dragon flute in his hand, its metal warm from where it was pressed up against his side, under his khaki shirt. The silver coating sparkles at angles where it catches the light, filtering through the leaves above him. There are ridges engraved into runes on the surface; slightly worn where it has rubbed against his skin from when he twirls it around his fingers. Scattered randomly on the surface are grey moonstones that have been embedded into the metal work. The grey reminds Harry of the stormy greys of a certain man’s eyes, especially when the translucent stone sparks with lightning within it, and perfectly mirrors the electric disposition of the man who gave him the flute. 

He twirls the flute between his fingers as he swings his leg idly beneath the tree branch he’s currently perched on. It is high up enough that he is almost level with the mountain peak of the Romanian Dragon Preserve, in which he works. The wind gently rustles the deep green leaves all around him and together with the grey moonstones staring back at him, he is cast back to the day he last met Draco Malfoy. 

* * *

It was a late spring day that would have been unbearably hot if not for the gentle breeze that cooled the air around him. The day was Harry’s penultimate one in London, right before he left for Romania, and he wanted to walk around the area one last time. He was strolling along at a leisurely pace, slowly scanning familiar surroundings as if he could imprint them onto the back of his retinas. Harry had smiled fondly when he had spotted the local cafe where he’d spent many afternoons with Hermione and Ron. He was just about to stop for a clearer glance through the cafe’s window, when a shock of white blond hair appeared in his peripheral vision. 

Now, Harry had only ever known one family to sport that particular shade of blond and yet what would a Malfoy be doing in Muggle London? Even so, his muscles had reflexively stiffened and he had prayed that a hostile encounter was not impending. It was a surprise then, that he had ended up face to face with Draco Malfoy; his eyes steady and mouth pressed firm in resolution.

Harry must’ve stood there dumbfounded for so long that Malfoy took the initiative to march up to Harry. He had thrust a small wooden case into Harry’s hand and had said: 

“For giving me my wand back”. Harry had only frowned in response; letting silence fall between them once more. When it had lasted too long to be comfortable, Draco had flushed and had glanced away nervously. “It’s a dragon flute. It’s a must have if you’re looking to become a dragon tamer like The Daily Prophet mentioned.” 

Draco had frozen and seemed to realise what he had just admitted. “Not that I read the bloody thing to keep tabs on you!” He hadn’t waited for a response and quickly swept away with the breeze. 

* * *

Thinking back to that day now, Harry can admit to himself that a blush had crept up his own face upon seeing Draco so flustered. He wishes now that he had done something to be able to look into those storm-grey eyes for longer; not the hard steel-grey that he was used to but this new shade of grey that promised sparks of light and hope. 

Just then, a Romanian Longhorn Dragon lands on the top of Harry’s tree, causing it to tilt to the side and jolting Harry out of his reverie. Its weight bends the tree even further towards the ground where Harry takes the moment to hop off his branch and glances back up, where he sees the dragon swinging like an inverted pendulum as the tree tries to right itself. He gives a light chuckle at the sight and glances back down at the dragon flute in his hands. He gives it one quick spin around his fingers before placing it back into its usual place under his shirt. Harry casts a quick Tempus which reveals it to be two minutes to ten and thus leaving very little time to get to his next appointment. He rushes off while steeling himself as his heartbeat starts accelerating with the thought of who he’s meeting.

He heads towards the Preserve’s visitor centre, wiping his hands against his trousers and running his fingers through his unruly hair in an attempt to comb it into something presentable as he walks. Harry skips over broken rocks and felled trees; jumps over dragon-made pitfalls and passes along scorched walls. All the while his anticipation builds as he nears the centre. Eventually, he reaches his destination and pauses just outside the doors as he composes himself once more and takes a deep shaky breath before walking in. 

Instantly, his eyes are drawn to the man speaking to the receptionist. He’s bent over the counter so that the curve of his behind is accentuated that bit more and his ponytail is draped over his right shoulder. Harry hasn’t been spotted yet, so he takes a moment to admire the man in front of him for a bit longer. He’s dressed in the lime green uniform of a medic, except it’s been tailor made to fit his body perfectly. At his foot rests a black suitcase, leaning against the side of his calf, with the name ‘Draco Malfoy’ engraved in cursive into the thick material. 

At that moment, the receptionist glances over Draco’s shoulder and perks up as she sees Harry. 

“Ah, Mister Potter, over here please!” She stands up from her seat and waves Harry over. “Mister Malfoy was just asking for you. I believe he has an appointment scheduled with you.” 

“Yes that’s right, I am expecting him. Thank you, Heather.” Harry smiles at Heather and makes his way over to the pair. 

It is at that moment that Draco turns to face him and a polite smile graces his face as he reaches out to shake Harry’s hand. “Hello, Mister Potter, it has been a while, how do you do?”

“Hello, I’m well thank you…” Harry returns the handshake but remains shocked at the impersonal address. He forgets to ask after Draco himself and is rather disappointed that Draco is acting like their last meeting never took place, when it has played over in Harry’s mind so often. A silence stretches awkwardly between the three and Harry keeps hold of Draco’s hand for longer than strictly necessary. 

“As much as I would love to stand here all day, could you take me to the dragon egg shells, please?” Draco’s voice cut through Harry’s thoughts. 

“Yes... of course, please follow me.” Harry snatches his hand back and balls it into his side. He turns and walks towards the door he first arrived through; shooting a quick glance back to make sure the other man was following. If Draco was going to play it like that, then Harry could do the exact same thing. 

Draco gave a short nod of thanks to Heather, who looked rather grateful to be dismissed from their awkward meeting, and picked up his briefcase, following after Harry. 

* * *

Harry keeps a lookout for dragons as Draco makes his way across the rocky terrain, looking for egg shells that have been scattered around after the birthing season. He’s been told these shells will be used in potions to cure magical maladies affecting premature babies. Every so often, his eyes drift back to Draco, whose face is drawn in concentration. Harry’s heart squeezes with fondness, watching him and remembering his impassioned speech about the children he cares for. It was Draco’s first lapse in his impersonal, business-like face and it was breaking Harry’s resolve to remain the same. 

A scuffle of gravel pulls Harry’s attention away and towards a baby Chinese Fireball dragon that shoots out of the undergrowth and pounces onto Draco. Draco lets out a surprised yelp and topples back onto his bottom with an armful of baby dragon. 

Harry lets out a quiet huff of laughter at Draco’s scandalised expression as the dragon bounces up and down in Draco’s lap, and then prances around the fallen man whilst sniffing at him. It gives his hand a tentative lick, which has Draco yelping and pulling his hand away as a strip of skin turns light pink from the heat of the baby’s tongue. 

“It’s alright, baby dragons don’t reach temperatures that can burn us.” Harry walks towards Draco, crouches down and takes his hands in his own and softly blows on it. “Little Pendragon here seems to have taken a liking to you.” Harry smiles and glances up at Draco. He freezes as he realises how close Draco’s face is to his; close enough that he can see those lightning specks of gold in his grey eyes. 

Draco has stiffened under Harry’s touch, a blush of pink dusted over his ears. As Harry’s eyes meet his, he yanks his hand away and scrambles back to his feet. He dusts off his uniform and quickly locates the next nest of egg shells to load into his limitless briefcase, the baby dragon fluttering after him. 

Harry can feel the flush on his cheeks and clears his throat as he gets back up and makes a show of surveying the area. Though he cranes his neck around more than is strictly necessary, it’s not just for show as a baby dragon’s presence does mean that its mother is probably not far behind. 

When he glances back at Draco he’s amazed to find Draco lying back down on the ground, braced on his front by his arms, cooing at the baby dragon as it puffs heart-shaped clouds at Draco from its snout. Draco lets out a giggle that sets Harry’s heart racing. 

It’s then that a charge of electricity zaps through the skin at his side, which has Harry grabbing Draco and rolling him away just as a blaze of fire burns past them. Harry grabs his dragon flute from within his shirt and gives it a sharp two-toned whistle. The mother dragon who had attacked them, thinking they were a danger to her child, visibly calms and settles on a nearby boulder. She blows a puff of warm air at the pair still on the ground in apology and relaxes to watch her baby enjoy itself in a patch of dry grass that’s still ablaze. 

Danger averted, Harry’s attention returns to himself and realises that he’s rolled on top of Draco, his arms bracketing the other man on the floor with their bodies pressed flush against each other. His heart that had just been starting to slow down starts racing again and he’s almost certain Draco can feel it. However, he gets distracted by a blush that has spread across the other man’s face in a gorgeous pink to match his lips. 

Draco’s own eyes dart to Harry’s parted lips as he pants from exertion and then to the side of his head where he can see the flute that Harry had used, still clenched in his hand. “You kept it.” He says, almost as a question. Draco hadn’t really thought Harry would use it considering their seemingly lifelong feud. He had found it clearing out a room in the Manor and had thought it a good substitute for an actual ‘thank you’.

“Of course, I did. All dragon tamers need a dragon flute.” Harry fails to mention that Charlie had offered to give him an old one of his but declined it in favour of Draco’s instead. “It’s special. It can alert me to any hostility coming from dragons.” He looks down at the flute in his hand and glances at the moonstones that have been cleared of its streaks of lightning that usually present in the face of said hostility. He doesn’t say how it reminds him of Draco and that it always feels like Draco is the one protecting him instead. 

Harry looks back down at Draco’s face and notices how his expression has turned soft and his eyes search his own as if seeing all the things Harry had just left unsaid. The business-like facade has been completely stripped off the both of them. 

A snout appears between them as the baby dragon wiggles its way between them, its tail wagging side to side as it goes. 

“Okay, okay, Pendragon, we’re getting up,” Harry giggles and starts to get up, mourning the loss of contact against Draco. Unable to part himself from the other man’s warmth for too long, he grasps Draco’s hand to pull him up with him. Draco has a small smile on his face as well and they both take a moment to enjoy the feeling of each other. 

Pendragon tugs on their trousers and they’re forced to part at last. With one last smile at each other, they turn back to the work at hand. Harry, with a promise to himself, to do anything to keep Draco in his life.


End file.
